


Reflection (Temp.)

by GRAVENINE



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, More tags to be added, Ratings Unofficial Currently
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-30 00:44:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20088082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GRAVENINE/pseuds/GRAVENINE
Summary: STRESS LEVELS 83% AND RAISING,, PLEASE BALANCE CONDITION.





	Reflection (Temp.)

**YEAR 2035; NOVEMBER 23RD / DETROIT**

In this place, silence is law. There lain only gusts of wind and the near-silent whirring of machinery to accompany the few people within. Detroit was inhabited hugely by technology and futuristic designs—a town that's been so known to be populated rarely had the promises people came for.

The only affair people could anticipate were the androids - ones with LEDs glowing on their temple blue, red, and yellow. Ones with intelligence of super computers and top-par databases.

Reverence was a rare subject here. That began in year 2013, when the first ever Android, Chloe, a RT600, was built by the very own former CEO of CyberLife: Elijah Kamski.

People gained a personal vendetta against Androids once they began to be mass-produced. They were afraid they would take their jobs and put the human race to shame and ruin. But Androids instead rose up against their creators and owners, demanding freedom and equality.

Detroit had to be evacuated. And now, few humans remain. The city is now known as a place inhabited mostly for intelligent life-forms.

Connor sucks in an unneeded breath through his teeth, one of a desperate man backed into ceding. His LED would be whirring a pale yellow on the verge of red- if he still had it impaled within his temple. For days he had to struggle with his inner cynicism and remain at a neutral outlook on life so far. He was only a singular month old, yet he felt as if he knew the world past simple glances—the deeper meaning. He flinched at the loud pop of a gunshot outside, followed by another soon after. It was silent.

War was still waging, even with the humans' lesser numbers.

Minutes passed. He couldn't tell the difference between six or sixty. He knew he shifted often, quickly getting uncomfortable with the uncertain silence the city decided to adhere to. This did not help his slowly rising stress levels, and, whether to distract himself- he didn't know, he runs a self-diagnosis.

**SELF-DIAGNOSIS IN PROGRESS...**

_All bio-components functional. Temperature proceeds under recommended Fahrenheit. Temperature regulation recommended. Stress levels 53%_not liable to self-destruct; stress levels still recommended to be lowered before condition worsens///. _

He straightens his lips into a thin line, hand gripping his arms as if to keep himself grounded; in a way, it was- to take his mind off of the gunshots and the loud howls—focusing instead on the low whirring of the engine.

"You getting lost already, Tin Can?"

"What do you mean?" The questions slips out of Connor's mouth quickly enough as he opens his eyes. His gaze drifts over to Gavin Reed whom drives the car.

The detective glances at him with a glare. "What I said. Get your shit together."

Connor grips tighter on his arm as he looks down at the holographic tablet in his lap. The thumb of his other hand taps lightly at the edges of it, though he quickly shuts the fidgeting down. Certainly, Reed must have been annoyed by it but probably hadn't cared enough to mention. The android wishes he could express his mutual hate.

"I can't help my stress levels, Reed."

"Just fucking stop." He always suspected Reed had a small lisp.

* * *

The car slowly came to a stop as Connor was forced out of his reverie in front of the DPD. The building, as expected, was barely lit, but there were still people working inside- fewer than before though. He could just barely make out Captain Fowler leaning his head into his hands.

"Us _humans_ haven't been doing well since androids decided to rebel. I hope you shitty plastics are happy," Gavin's rough voice speaks out as he reaches down for cigarettes hidden within the compartment of his car. He hasn't smoked in awhile.

"This-" Connor cuts himself off, biting his lip. Humans were forced out of their homes. The DPD was put into overtime even though the streets had been quiet. Hank- well...there wasn't really a response he could come up with. The Lieutenant chose his path.

Maybe it was the smartest and easiest way out of this mess.

"This what?" His tone hardens.

The android taps at his tablet. "Nothing, Detective. I could apologize for our inconvenience but..." He looks Gavin straight in the eye. "...what would that fix." The statement isn't phrased as a question.

Gavin stares back at him, lighting the cigarette successfully without a glance. Connor laughs mentally at the fact he must think he's 'cool' because of it.

** _Stress Levels V 43% _ **

He wouldn't put it past the disgruntled detective.

"'Would still be nice to hear regardless."

"Well I guess you won't be getting that satisfaction."

His stress levels raise again by another three percent, slightly tense of the response he would receive. Surprisingly enough, Gavin shrugs, taking a drag. "It's whatever you wanna make it, Tin Can. Don't expect me to be a fucking android fiddler."

Connor wants to retort, to say "you're only one if you want to be", but he resides to bringing up an unfinished case on the tablet.

They can only hope at this point.

**Author's Note:**

> This is something I had wrote before I have to start up school again. Would you like it to be continued? Give me your thoughts below.


End file.
